


Pattern

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, Humiliation, M/M, Punishment, Rough Sex, Slurs, Spanking, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:58:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hikaru gives Kirk what he needs and Pavel what he deserves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pattern

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon's "rough punishment sex with Sulu topping the hell out of a willing and grateful Jim, then Sulu going and making gentle love to Chekov" prompt on the [Star Trek ID Kink Meme](http://strek-id-kink.livejournal.com/2836.html?thread=869140#t869140). 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Hikaru’s ready before he opens the door. He’s in his full uniform—the one he wears when he’s in the captain’s spot. He sucks in a breath and he punches the code into the wall console—he’s really going to do this. 

He _needs_ this, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to. But it’s still intimidating, and this is the sort of thing that will never leave these walls; this isn’t what the bridge is.

The doors part and the captain’s on the other side, looking down and shooting his head up. He nods, “Lieutenant,” and steps through. Everything shuts behind him, and Hikaru locks it. No one can interrupt and see them. 

As soon as they’re alone, everything about Kirk’s demeanor changes. His broad shoulders slump, his blue eyes close, and he releases a shaky breath. When his eyes open again, they’re full of guilt and shame. His arms are loose at his sides, but his hands are fists. “I put the crew in danger.” He licks his lip. “That was a calculated risk, but I could’ve gotten them all killed.”

Hikaru doesn’t say what he’s really thinking— _but you didn’t_ or _you did what you had to_. Instead he says levelly enough to make a Vulcan proud, “You’ve been a bad captain.”

Kirk nods, eyes scrunched back together. He needs this as much as Hikaru does, just for different reasons. He _asked_ for this, one night in a training room after watching Hikaru spar. But it’s still strange for Hikaru to have his captain submit to him and beg, “I need to be punished; please punish me.” The strain on Kirk’s face is evident.

Hikaru turns and strolls back to the bed, allowing Kirk to follow. He barks, “Lights,” and they flicker down to the predetermined half-glow. When he reaches the bed, he turns and sits on it, and Jim halts in the bedroom doorway. 

Hikaru doesn’t let the strangeness of the situation seep into his voice. From here on out, he’s going to let his hands do what they want. He’s got permission, and they’ve got a safe word—something Jim never uses. He lets their positions fall away. In this room, Hikaru’s the king. 

He orders, “Strip.”

Kirk shudders. He pulls his golden shirt slowly over his head, then the black one underneath, revealing his strong, slightly tanned chest, his chiseled muscles and his gleaming skin. He slides just as methodically out of his pants, and then he’s pulling down his underwear. He tugs off his socks, and he folds everything into a haphazard pile, and he stands before Hikaru, glorious and naked and reduced to _nothing._

“You put me in danger,” Hikaru says bluntly. “...You put _Pavel_ in danger.”

Kirk gulps. “I’m sorry.” He looks sorry. Not sorry enough. “I... I was bad.” Hikaru lifts off the bed as he talks, walking closer. “There wasn’t any other way to—”

He’s cut off by Hikaru’s fist, right in his cheek. Kirk stumbles back, clutching his face, gasping in pain. He catches himself and he walks forward again, while Hikaru decides, “Shut up. You won’t speak unless you’re spoken to.” Kirk nods, his pretty, pink lips open. He has such a _pretty_ face, bright blue eyes and blond hair and pouted, full lips. But he’s a fighter and he could punch back; he just doesn’t. Hikaru raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to clarify, “I believe I just spoke to you.”

Kirk closes his mouth, licks his lip, then says, “Yes, sir.”

Smirking slightly, Hikaru trails around Kirk’s body, studying him up and down. He’s all hard, all everywhere, but as pretty as possible—the perfect curves and the perfect skin, with a smattering of pale, blond hair trailing down the bottom of his stomach and a round, full ass in the back. Hikaru’s hands twitch to hold it, but he resists. 

He grabs a chunk of Kirk’s hair instead, jerking it back and earning another cry of pain. Face right next to his ear, Hikaru says, “You put my sweet, innocent Pavel in _danger_. You’ll make it up to me by helping me get out my anger and my darker desires. You’ll be a tool, a toy for me to fuck and abuse, so I can go back to a man so much better than yourself and treat him properly...”

Kirk winces. He comes here for a game, not to be told about Hikaru’s love life, but Hikaru uses that to his advantage. He wants Kirk to know the use of this. He wants Kirk to see Pavel and know, next time they’re in a crisis, and he has to make a captain’s decision, that he’ll pay for every curl touched on Pavel’s head. He wants Kirk to know that outside of this game, they’re all _people_ , Kirk’s _crew_ , not because he thinks Kirk a bad captain, but because he knows it hurts Kirk more. Kirk’s a mass of pain and guilt that he wants to choke on. Hikaru throws his head back down and grunts, “What kind of captain are you, anyway? Running off to skirt the edge of blackholes... I bet you got your chair by sucking Pike’s cock.”

The grimace on Kirk’s face at the name of his late mentor is brutal, but Hikaru doesn’t let up. “Take away our charisma and your charm, and there’s nothing solid underneath. That’s all you’re good for. Sucking cock and being fucked, pretty thing that you are. You think it’s alright to gallivant around the galaxy so recklessly, just because you’ve got too nice an ass for anyone to hold you accountable? If you looked like you were inside, you’d be back on Earth cleaning dishes.”

Because the humiliation is part of what Kirk needs, Hikaru traces back around his body and says to his face, “Open your eyes; I want you to see your own officer taking you down.”

Kirk looks at him, sorrowful and thick with regret. Hikaru slaps him hard across the other cheek, getting too much joy out of the snapping sound Kirk’s head makes when it jolts to the side. Hikaru enjoys all of this too much, which is why he has to get this out before he sees Pavel. His cock’s straining against the confines of his pants, and it’s going to bring someone down. 

Hikaru doesn’t waste time with foreplay. In this state, Kirk doesn’t deserve it. He doesn't want it. Hikaru grabs him by the neck hard enough to make him splutter and gasp for air, hands shooting and scrambling at Hikaru’s wrist. Hikaru turns Kirk around and tosses him towards the bed—Kirk’s legs hit it and he crumples, and Hikaru marches over and throws him further up it, slapping his ass to make him scurry. Kirk climbs right into the middle on all fours, staying down. Hikaru climbs on afterwards and fiddles with his own pants, impossibly hard at the sight of Kirk’s taut ass. Kirk tries to look back to see, and Hikaru shoves him down. 

It isn’t time yet; his dick just needs the air. And he knows this next part is only going to get him harder. He’ll have to make it quick. He pulls his hand back, and he makes it clear, “If you move, I’ll find something a lot sharper to use than my hand, and don’t bother begging.” Then he brings his hand down, spanking Kirk hard and fast across both cheeks. Kirk grunts and buries his head in the pillows. Hikaru’s only started. 

He spanks Kirk brutally, not for play. He uses all of his strength to litter Kirk with blows, all up and down his cheeks, which flush quickly under his fingers. Sometimes Hikaru lingers between hits, squeezing just a little bit extra, tugging the tender flesh. He’s going to leave bruises. Kirk could go to Dr. McCoy after, but he won’t. He’ll have trouble sitting in his chair for days, and every time he squirms, he’ll see the back of Hikaru’s calm head and know what caused it. 

Hikaru’s smirking broader and broader before he can stop himself. He’s brought the great Captain Kirk to his knees, whimpering and writhing. Kirk _is_ whimpering, wincing on every hit, back tense. But Hikaru doesn’t stop. He does twenty, thirty, forty hits, counting in his head and wanting to make Kirk sob. The more Kirk cries, the better he’ll feel. The more Kirk cries, the less Hikaru will feel the need to see Pavel’s sweet face slick with tears. Pavel’s got such a great ass. It always feels so plush and soft in Hikaru’s hands; it would bruise so easily, and Pavel would lie so obediently still...

Hikaru pours all his desire into Kirk instead, pretending a guilty pleasure. He loses himself in the fantasy of it, losing track of numbers, letting the horrible slapping sound fill his ears, Kirk’s heavy breathing and breaking voice even better. Hikaru stops at what must be around sixty—Kirk’s ass is a bright red, looking ready to bleed. Hikaru leans over his back and grabs a fistful of blond hair, jerking it back to examine Kirk’s face.

Kirk’s eyes are closed, pale lashes against his cheek, beaded with water. Perfect. Hikaru shoves his face back down and hisses, “You deserve it.” Then Hikaru rocks his hips into Kirk, moaning at how his rock-solid cock slips between Kirk’s sore cheeks, earning a yelp. He adds, “Tell me you deserve it...”

“I deserve it,” Kirk says, voice right on the brink of sobbing. _Fuck_ , he looks good like that...

He tries to pull his hips back when Hikaru grabs them, so Hikaru pinches one red thigh, lapping up the scream it causes. Then he’s running his fingers down Kirk’s crack, finding his dry, puckered hole and stabbing into it, pressing until he’s inside. Kirk sucks in a pained breath, but Hikaru just pistons his finger in, right up to the knuckle. He pulls back to slip another inside, not preparing Kirk at all but stretching. He holds Kirk’s hole wider and wider until he can fit the head of his cock into it, and Kirk is barely managing to get air in his lungs. Hikaru pushes inside right away. Kirk _screams_. Hikaru pushes further, cock slicking up with what must be blood, and he almost stops, but doesn’t. It feels so _good_ , and Kirk hurts so beautifully.

Kirk’s thighs are trembling violently, walls convulsing around Hikaru’s cock, but Hikaru doesn’t care. He presses in and in, further and further. He doesn’t bother to try different angles, and he’s only going slowly because he can’t go any faster; Kirk’s too tight and unprepared. Hikaru’s too thick and dry. When he’s balls-deep, he pulls out right away, staring at the blood smeared across his cock. 

“You bleed like a virgin,” Hikaru chuckles darkly. His mind is running over how much young, tight Pavel would bleed if Hikaru fucked him like this, but then Hikaru shakes that thought away. No. He adjusts where he’s sitting and slams back inside, making Kirk howl. He leans down over Kirk’s back, hands on top of Jim’s in the sheets, hissing in Jim’s ear, “But we all know you’re no virgin... our little games might be a secret, but it’s not secret what a _slut_ you are. You put all of us in danger—you should let them all fuck you. Line up right in front of your captain’s chair and fuck you all over it, paint you in cum and make you sweat until you can’t see straight, until you’re crying from exhaustion and being fucked too hard to walk. That’s what you deserve, you _whore._ ”

Kirk whimpers and tries to curl up, but Hikaru’s holding him everywhere and won’t let him. Hikaru pulls his cock out and shoves it back in, slamming in and out as harshly as he spanked Kirk, and Kirk screams on every single thrust without fail. Hikaru can feel the skin of his ass burning, too raw and tender for this. Hikaru doesn’t care. He slams in hard enough that Kirk’s knees give out, and he collapses onto the mattress, Hikaru falling with him. Without stopping, Hikaru pounds him into it, eyes rolling back in his head. 

Fuck, Kirk’s _tight._ It’s so raw and it’s wonderful; it’s all of Hikaru’s sick, hard fantasies, not right and completely one sided. He doesn’t need to reach under and check to know that Kirk’s probably not even hard. Hikaru can’t tell if he’s hitting the right angle, because all he hears is pain. He fucks and fucks and he spits on Kirk’s shoulder blades, earning a wince, and he hisses, “Take it, you fucking bitch. You stupid cunt. You’re a shit captain, and you’re lucky you’ve got a nice ass or you’d be _nothing._ ”

That’s enough and Kirk cries, water streaming down his cheeks. Hikaru’s hips are lighting fast and machine hard, and he tilts his head to lick Kirk’s face, laughing cruelly. It’s that more than anything that gets Hikaru off. He inevitably feels his balls tighten, and he digs his nails into Kirk’s knuckles as he explodes, biting down hard in Kirk’s shoulders. The orgasm rushes through him, making him moan loud enough to drown out everything else. 

The pleasure drowns out everything else. His vision’s white, and then it’s not, and then he’s coming back down again, and he collapses without pulling out, onto Kirk’s trembling, naked back. 

Kirk’s still breathing very hard, but after Hikaru disentangles himself, it’s a little better. Hikaru falls beside him on the bed and asks, “You okay?” Because even though Kirk never uses the safe word, Hikaru still wonders. Kirk nods. Lifts his lips and rubs his red eyes clean. Hikaru doesn’t pet him or stroke his cheek; they’re not like that. But he does say, “...You are a good captain.”

Kirk sighs shakily, clear eyes opening and tired. He says, “Thanks, Sulu.” Clearly for everything. 

Hikaru nods.

Kirk sniffs. “Fuck, I needed that.” And he pushes himself up, wincing in pain. Hikaru helps gather his clothes. Climbing into them unsteadily, Kirk’s careful not to touch his red ass. 

Hikaru says, “Please go to Dr. McCoy. I’m going to feel like shit if you bleed out.”

Kirk just shrugs, like he can take it. But he does look a little better. He smoothes all his clothes out and nods to himself, glancing absently around the room. His face is full of sincerity when he looks up and says, “Thank you.”

Hikaru nods. Kirk leaves, and there’s a sonic shower waiting.

* * *

Pavel answers the door with a smile bright as the sun, always so excited. It makes Hikaru smile right from the get go—he’s never felt as loved as he does meeting up with Pavel. 

Pavel knows a few things but not everything. He knows that Hikaru does what he can for the captain, and Pavel knows a part of that is sexual. He knows Hikaru doesn’t want anyone else and wouldn’t touch anyone else. Pavel doesn’t know what exactly Hikaru does, and they’re never going to tell him, although Hikaru’s explained that he’s not as good a person as he should be for Pavel. 

Pavel doesn’t care. Pavel’s full of trust and light, and he kisses Hikaru on the cheek before drawing him inside. There’s a plate of lasagna on the table in the small kitchenette—one of Hikaru’s favourite dishes. Synthesized, of course, but he’ll take it. Pavel guides him over to the waiting chairs, and they carve out pieces, talking about that strange asteroid they saw today, and then somehow about Klingon birds of prey. Hikaru’s feeling light headed and easy, like a long-lasting set of post-orgasmic bliss. All the tension from his early shift and the whole blackhole fiasco has oozed out of him. He smiles at Pavel and says, “Thank you,” for the meal. 

Pavel says, “Any time, Hikaru,” in the so-cute way of his. Every time Pavel says Hikaru’s name, Hikaru gets a shiver up the back of his spine. 

Dishes go in the sink, and they don’t drink synthehol, because even though Pavel’s legal, he feels too young, and Hikaru wants to be present for every one of these moments. They sit on the couch and they talk more, and then Hikaru can’t take it. He presses his lips into Pavel’s, fingers running down Pavel’s arm. 

He slips his fingers into Pavel’s, looking back for permission. 

“You will stay zhe night?” Pavel asks, looking too beautiful to be real. They haven’t even changed out of uniform yet, but Pavel wears his gold fabric like a second skin. This way, Hikaru will have everything he needs to go from here directly to his shift: more time he can spend with his boyfriend.

He says, “Yeah,” and pulls Pavel off the couch, kissing him the whole way. They’re all tongues and teeth and roaming hands on the way to the bedroom—once, Hikaru accidentally backs into a wall. But they bump their way to the bed. They find it, and Hikaru falls down onto it, taking Pavel with him. He “Oomph”s when Pavel’s weight hits his stomach, but it’s not much. Pavel goes right back to kissing him, smiling brilliantly. 

But Hikaru has to eventually push him away, ever so gently, because, “Get the lube?”

Nodding, Pavel climbs off and asks, “You will teach me more of zhis fencing business tomorrow, yes?”

Repositioning in the bed, rolling down the sheets and kicking off his shoes, Hikaru chuckles. He lays his head in the pillow and tugs his shirt over his head, then his pants, then his socks, then his underwear. He puts it all aside and folds his hands happily behind his head, sighing, “If you still want to, but you don’t have to just because it’s an interest of mine.”

“I want to,” Pavel insists. He peeks his head out of the adjacent bathroom to ask, “Zhis is not because I am too terrible at it, is it?”

Hikaru laughs. “You’re not terrible. I’m just well trained; it’ll take you a while to catch up to me. For a beginner, you’re actually very good.”

“Ah, zhank you.” And he’s into the bathroom again, rifling through drawers. Eventually, he wanders back out, holding a little bottle of clear gel. He says as he skips forward, “Besides, I need to be getting stronger. I newer knew how much physical actiwity is in Engineering.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” Hikaru reaches over to touch Pavel’s leg as he crawls back onto the bed, climbing over Hikaru, straddling him.

“Wery well,” Pavel says proudly. “Meester Scott is a wery good teacher.”

“And you’re a very good student,” Hikaru chuckles, which he knows from personal experience. There isn’t a more eager ensign on the whole starship. 

Pavel opens his mouth to say more, but he’s cut off by Hikaru’s fingers brushing over his crotch. That’s enough talk. Although the sound of Pavel’s voice, thick with his Russian accent, is always music to Hikaru’s ears. It’s just as lovely when it’s caught in a gasp or a whimper, and Hikaru cups him through his pants, pressing in. Pavel bites his lower lip and squirms, placing the bottle down in the mattress. 

Eyes running all over Hikaru’s exposed body, cock half-hard in promise, Pavel sighs, “You’re _so_ handsome, Hikaru.” His hands land on Hikaru’s pecs, smoothing out and tracing down, feeling all his muscles. 

“You are, too,” Hikaru insists, and he squeezes Pavel again for good measure. Pavel whimpers cutely and ruts into Hikaru’s hand. Reaching up to slip his fingertips beneath Pavel’s shirt, Hikaru hisses, “I’d like it if I could see that handsome body, though...”

Nodding, Pavel subserviently brings his hands back to his body, grabbing the hem of his shirt and lifting it carefully over his head. It messes up his hair in the process. Pavel’s chest isn’t chiseled like Hikaru’s is; it’s smooth and lithe. Even better. Hikaru runs his hands over it while Pavel lifts up on his knees, fiddling to get his pants off. He has to sit down on Hikaru’s legs after, but eventually he gets himself clear, bare except for his socks. Hikaru doesn’t mention them. Pavel’s perfect enough, and Pavel leans down to press their lips together. 

As he sits back up after, he mumbles, “Would you still lowe me if we didn’t automatically hawe sex ewery time we were toget’er?” 

Hikaru chuckles, stroking Pavel’s hips fondly. “I’d love you if I could never touch you again; I’d just be really sad about it.” As Pavel beams and leans back down for another kiss, Hikaru murmurs on the exit, “Is that your way of saying we have too much sex?” But Hikaru knows that isn’t it, because he reaches down to stroke Pavel’s pink, eager cock, jutting out and hard, too.

Lifting up on his knees a little, Pavel shakes his head. He reaches for the bottle of lube and pops it open, pouring a little in his palm. “Of course not. You know I lowe your cock wery, wery much.” And he makes his point by stroking the lube onto Hikaru’s hard, upright dick, which twitches happily in his hand. Pavel doesn’t stop until every last centimeter is covered, and then he strokes a few times extra, just for good measure. Hikaru reaches down to help gather more lube, and he takes Pavel’s hand, guiding it under Pavel’s lifted legs.

Hikaru’s head tilts back for a moment as he gets lost in the sensation: his fingers bumping into Pavel’s, running over Pavel’s tight, puckered hole, slicking it up and feeling the heat. His arm is bumping his own cock, and he’s still squeezing Pavel’s hip with his other hand, tracing the slight curve. A deep breath and he looks down again, taking in the perfect sight. Hikaru lets Pavel finger himself, gasping on entry and eyebrows knitting together, cheeks flushed. He makes adorable breathy noises as two digits disappear and reappear. It takes everything Hikaru has not to touch himself. He wants this to last. He stares between Pavel’s legs. Pavel stops too soon, and as soon as his fingers are out, Hikaru pushes his in after, making Pavel cry out and brace his hands against Hikaru’s stomach. Hikaru wants to make sure Pavel’s really _ready_ —Hikaru never, ever wants to hurt him. 

Plus, Pavel’s walls are wondrously tight and warm and slick around him, and it’s such an erotic feeling that Hikaru just has to savour it. He only stops when Pavel begs desperately, “Oh, Hikaru, oh, please... please make lowe to me...”

“Sit up, babe.” Hikaru taps Pavel’s bum, because he never could resist that voice. Pavel lifts up obediently, and Hikaru positions his cock, holding Pavel’s hole apart. Pavel’s nice and still, until Hikaru pats his thigh like a horse, purring, “Go for it.”

Pavel drops down, his hungry walls swallowing Hikaru right up, and Hikaru moans loudly while Pavel gasps, hands still braced against Hikaru’s body. 

It gets stuck about halfway, so Hikaru quickly thrusts his hips up, impaling Pavel firmly and earning a small cry of mingled pleasure and shock. As much as he intends to let Pavel do the work, Hikaru wants to help find the right place, and he pistons his hips up at different angles, until Pavel’s moaning and pleading, “Oh, yes, right zhere, right zhere...”

Hikaru grinds into it a few more times, holding onto Pavel’s waist for good measure. Pavel’s fingers jump to his own body, sliding up his torso and splaying over his chest, running through his curls and brushing back his hair. He rocks himself and grinds into it, touching himself all over, and it’s easily one of the hottest things Hikaru’s ever seen. Every new time with Pavel is like that. Hikaru groans, “Touch your nipples.” Because he would never, ever treat Pavel like he treats Kirk—he wouldn’t order Pavel about or punish him for misbehaving. 

But Hikaru would make blunt suggestions, and he loves the way innocent little Pavel always listens. Cheeks bright pink, Pavel runs his fingers over his rosy nipples, rolling them around and rubbing them into hard nubs, tugging on them gently. Hikaru moans at the sight. He could come just from looking at Pavel, but feeling is so much better. 

Pavel’s tight as hell. Almost so much that it’s painful. So much that it’s rapturous. It’s so warm and hot, and he loves the way Pavel’s taut balls brush against his stomach. He wraps his fingers around Pavel’s cock, and Pavel sighs, “ _Daaa_ ,” appreciatively. Hikaru stops bucking up.

Pavel immediately picks up where he left off, lifting up and dropping down, bouncing excitedly up and down on Hikaru’s cock. It’s _so_ good. Pavel’s so enthusiastic that he almost loses balance, and he drops his palms back to Hikaru’s chest to steady himself. 

A little hand gesture, and Pavel’s leaning back down, Hikaru guiding their lips back together. They share a lingering, wet kiss, and then Hikaru’s pushing him back to bounce again. Pavel fucks himself so well. His curls bounce against his forehead while he does it, eyes half lidded, lips open. His soft body and his creamy skin is all awash in the light. He’s all Hikaru could ever want and more. 

He gets close first. Always does. He’s young and excitable, and Hikaru got off earlier, and Pavel’s eyes flicker closed. He’s panting and mumbling nonsense in Russian, and he moans through it, “Hikaru, tell me you lowe me.”

“I love you,” Hikaru says easily, on cue, pumping Pavel’s bouncing cock and meaning every word. “You’re the perfect boyfriend; you’re everything to me, I love you, I love you, I _love you so much._ ”

Pavel throws his head back and screams, “Hikaru!” voice turning to high-pitched honey. His cock spurts right across Hikaru’s chest, and he keeps bouncing, hips rocking like a porn star, ass clenching feverishly around Hikaru’s cock. It’s all Hikaru can do to stay conscious. It’s brilliant, brilliant. So, _so_ amazing. 

Hikaru isn’t far behind. Pavel still keeps lifting up and falling down, even after he’s come, just to help Hikaru get off. He looks right down at Hikaru, slick with sweat and flushed and beautiful, mumbling thickly, “I lowe you, Hikaru, I do.”

Hikaru knows. He holds Pavel’s ass in tight when he comes, and he grabs Pavel’s arm and jerks him down, and Hikaru kisses him so warmly. Hikaru fills him right up with every last drop. 

And then he gently lifts Pavel off, and Pavel falls heavily down onto his chest, earning an, “Oof.”

Pavel rains butterfly kisses down on his face, nuzzles into his neck happily, and holds him there. Hikaru can’t quite reach the blankets from where he is, and he’s too satiated to bother sitting up. 

Sighing contentedly, Pavel first chirps, “Lights,” plunging the room into darkness, and then, “You are so good to me.”

“You’re so good,” Hikaru chuckles, kissing Pavel’s forehead. So good.

They drift off to sleep like that, with Hikaru feeling so _complete_ that he doesn’t even have the words. After a while, he gets cold, but instead of disentangling himself and going for the blankets, he adjusts Pavel over him, earning a sleepy giggle. When his eyes are closed long enough, he sees Pavel’s face, and he dreams of fencing in Russia.


End file.
